robot_restoration_projectfandomcom-20200214-history
Assured of Justice
++ Nyon ++ Nyon was the capital of Cybertron during the Golden Age, the rule of Nova Prime, when energon was plentiful and the planet's population was at peace. Now, with nearby Iacon the capital of the planet, Nyon has become a ghetto, and a shell of its former self. Temples, libraries, energon refineries and places of culture have been all but abandoned, left to corrode and rot away as their patrons moved to the newer, better capital city to the east. Left behind were the low caste and disposable laborers, who commute to Iacon to maintain and keep it, while being denied the privilege of its living quarters. Poverty and crime are rife here, with only minimal police presence to keep it at bay, making it a fertile breeding ground for rebellion and dissent. You know that feeling, when you've been lost, and then you finally find someplace familiar, and all you want to do is sit and bask in the familiarness? Well, that is how Swift Blade is feeling right now. When she comes into view of Nyon she picks up her pace to reach the city. She could probably use a nice sit down about now, which is always welcome to a weary wanderer. So far the cycle has been pretty tranquil other than the momentary worry she felt when she realized she didn't know where she was, but now that that moment is over, she has gone back to her usual, unflappable self. Blast Off would LIKE to be his usual, unflappable self (he SWEARS he used to be such a thing, really)! He prefers to present a calm, aloof mask to the world... one that shows his natural dignity and poise, as is befitting a high class space shuttle. But when you keep finding yourself hanging around the likes of Whirl that gets to be a much harder thing to do. The Combaticon still *tries*, but once someone's figured out which buttons to press he's generally in for a bumpy ride. Not that he won't keep at least *trying* though, and perhaps one can even afford the shuttle some smidgeon of respect or even sympathy for never quite entirely giving up on the pursuit of his dignity. He's had everything else taken away from him at some point- even his own body- but never his dignity. Not /entirely/, at least. It's gotten close, but he holds onto that last little scrap like a pitbull. Even in prison when faced with Pharma (not that he wasn't /scared to death/, but he certainly wouldn't admit it now). No... he wants to hold onto dignity. Always. And if he can just AVOID certain people, who knows, maybe that will continue to be the case. For now, he just hopes this will be so, and walks down the street after yet another cargo transport to Nyon. He's been here a lot lately, looking for information on Shiftlock's disappearance but not getting much of anywhere. Swiftblade will hear slow, thudding footsteps that may sound somewhat familiar approaching her from behind. "Hey," a deep voice calls out to her, "sorry our meeting yesterday was so brief, had a few things to take care of." Exodus falls into stride with Swiftblade. "I don't think I've seen you around before, are you new to the area? If so, how do you like Nyon so far?" He gives her a friendly smile. "Since you didn't get to join me yesterday, would you like to join me now for a drink?" Blast Off is apparently not very good at avoiding those people who cause him to lose his dignity, because it seems the Combaticon just keeps running into them! Even now, a certain celebrity athlete is parading down the street with a group of fans or maybe colleagues, who knows. Blurr doesn't appear to have taken notice of them yet, as he seems to be busy chatting with whatever group he's with. Hopefully Swift Blade isn't on the Blast Off 'needs to avoid' list. Of course, the femme doesn't know such a list exists and so probably hasn't thought about whether or not she should be on it. Her origins are more humble than his, but she has her own brand of quiet dignity, even after being a slave. Chances are, as she walks along the street, she'll eventually run into Blast Off. Coincidence does seem to favor them running into each other. People who believe in destiny might think it means something, but chances are, it's just the way things have turned out. Swift Blade herself certainly has no intention of 'stalking' Blast Off, though she has even less intention of avoiding the mech. As she hears someone calling to her, she slows her steps. Seeing the mech from the other day, she inclines her head politely. "Yes, I'm newly returned to the planet after being gone for millions of years," she says. "I was feeling a little lost, but when I saw Nyon in my sights, it was welcome as something familiar. It is the place I have been the most frequently besides Vos." Her voice isn't exactly friendly, but it is definitely polite. "I have been walking for some time, so I will take you up on your offer this time." While talking, she spots the celebrity and his throng of admirers(?). She watches the group of them with mild interest. She had been well known in her off world arena days, but the glamour and credit went to her owners, not to herself, so she knows nothing about celebrities first hand. There is curiosity, but no envy or malice. Blast Off spots Swift Blade and Exodus again. The shuttleformer's head tilts slightly. Hmm. Exodus is one mech who doesn't seem to actually be trying to *kill* him (a sadly rare thing these days it seems) and Swift Blade is a femme who actually seems amiable to him and isn't crazy, totally unpredictable, or inclined to recklessness (as far as he can tell). He's just stepping over towards them to try and greet them when- OMP. There's BLURR. Everything else falls by the wayside. Blurr arrested Shiftlock- kidnapped her, as far as he's concerned, and has taken her off to Primus knows where. Ratbat (or so he SAID). And then he managed to thrash the Combaticon much more than he would like to admit when Blast Off tried to get information from him. Oohhh how he'd like to start shooting right now. His trigger finger twitches... but with that throng there it is NOT the time. He's a wanted fugitive- this is not the time to start pulling out a gun and begin shooting. ...Well, probably not. He begins stepping back, not wanting to be seen. "I'm glad," Exodus says to Swiftblade with a nod, "Nyon has been home sweet home for me since.. well, ever since I can remember." He smiles. "You were gone for millions of years?" he asks, brow ridges arching softly, "where've you been?" He starts walking down the street, towards a decent looking joint on the corner. "If you're up for it, I'd love to show you around after a drink?" Exodus notices Blurr, and chuckles a little. Then his gaze wanders and he notices Blast Off trying to remain obscure. He gives the Combaticon a friendly bronod but otherwise leaves him be. Blurr still hasn't taken notice of Blast Off yet, so far so good for the Combaticon. The group noisily enters the joint Exodus and Swiftblade are headed toward, and cause even more noise upon entering. After all, who -isn't- excited to see the famed racer randomly walk in to the bar they're in? Okay, maybe Blast Off. Does Swift Blade see Blast Off, or doesn't she? Fortunately for Blast Off, the ex-slave femme does NOT see him, or else she would likely call out a greeting, alerting Blurr to his presence. Between looking around her and looking at Exodus as he speaks, she even happens to miss his nod towards Blast, which is just as well. She chats amiably with the large mech. "I was one of the early Cybertronians to be sold into slavery by the Quintessons," she explains patiently, though everyone is curious about where she's been. And she does look to be very young for her 'age'. "I have been to many places since then, in the hands of different masters. My last master set me free, so naturally I returned to my planet of origin." She smiles briefly. "I am very interested in learning more about the places and people on Cybertron." She watches the crowd of people around Blurr, including the race himself, enter before her and Exodus. This doesn't make any difference to her, however. If the large mech she is walking with still wants to go in, then she will go inside too. Blast Off stares at Exodus, then slowly nods, though it's not a bronod, it is of course a *proper* nod. What, you expected something else? The fact that Blurr and the crowd enter to bar makes Blast Off NOT want to go there- one, he doesn't want to potentially get into a bar brawl in a cramped environment like that, and two, he doesn't like excessive noise. He glances over at Swift Blade and Exodus, torn between wanting to join in and the fact that they appear to be going somewhere every instinct of his is telling him he should NOT go. He's not trying to get himself trapped again, after all. Exodus nods as they walk along, opening the door politely for Swiftblade as they enter the joint. "That was certainly a while ago," he says, then gives her a curious look. "Tell me about some of the places you've been. Space travel is illegal nowadays, so a mech can't help but wonder what else is out there, y'know?" he chuckles a little. "That's good, and I'd be more than glad to help you out with that." Exodus spares Blast Off another beckoning look, inviting him to join with a friendly and expectant smile. One may or may not notice that Blurr is no longer with the group he'd been walking with. It's now quite crowded in there, as quite a few people had flocked inside upon hearing or seeing that the racer had headed inside. Where's he gotten off to...? "Well," begins Swift Blade as they enter the establishment, "the first planet I was on had a very...refined...culture where the people were so bored they spent most of their time gambling. I was bought to participate in the battle arenas they had there." She shrugs her shoulders. "I had two owners on that planet, but the second was far less scrupulous," she reflects. As for Blurr, well, she doesn't care because she doesn't know who he is and she wasn't paying that much attention to him, just the group he was with as a whole. The Combaticon continues to be a bit torn, looking as Exodus seems to welcome Blast Off in.... and he'd LIKE to. Maybe the mech would even BUY him another drink, and Primus knows he could use it. It's so frustrating though... he was once a high society mech, and now he's relegated to *common* status and ...well, being POOR. And guess what, it sucks to be poor. NOT recommended at all. The shuttleformer suddenly notices that Blurr seems to have disappeared, and he stiffens as his hand slips down, ready to draw out his blaster from subspace. He casts a wary optic around, then as the other two slip in... he finally decides perhaps that's what he'll do, as well. If nothing else, until he knows where that miserable spy went off to. Did he go inside, or not? So he begins to head towards the door. If nothign else, to peer inside and access the situation. "Another?" "Hrrmmmmmffffffff...shhhuuuure." This diginified response comes froma block mech who, although sitting at the bar has his back to it, his elbows occupying the counter casually as he sits with a nonchalant slump. His squinty optics scan the room continuously, despite his block of a head not moving one way or the other. The tapping of his finger, or rather it would be tapping were there not just air beneath his hanging hand, hints at some impatience. He barely takes notice as his refill is places by his elbow, for the entrance of more patrons quickly grabs his attention. His brow ridges furrow in concern. "Battle arenas?" He shakes his helm, thinking of the pit fights in Kaon. "That's kinda messed up, mech," he says. "At least your second owner was decent enough, huh? Decent enough to let you come back here. Glad he did though, it's been a pleasure having you here in Nyon." He gives her a small half smile. "What did you want to drink? I'll pick up the tab." He pulls out a barstool for Swiftblade, and as chance would have it, it is the seat right next to the mech leaning with his back to the counter. Exodus notices Blast Off enter and grins broadly at him, motioning for him to come over. Despite Blast Off's searching, there is no sign of Blurr anywhere....yet. Oh, good, Blast Off is joining them after all. Swift Blade will realize this in a few moments. Until then she'll be describing some of the places she's been to Exodus while taking a look at the inside of the bar. She's never really been in one before; on most of the planets she was on, she was simply too big for most of the buildings. "It wasn't my second master that freed me, or even my third," Swift Blade says to Exodus. "Yes, the battle arenas. They were too bad the first time, but my second master had me throw matches; I didn't agree with it, but it wasn't my place to argue." When Exodus motions for Blast Off to come join them, she finally sees him inside and inclines her head politely, offering him a faint smile. Then she flicks a glance to the mech at the bar and raises her optic ridges a trifle. To Exodus she says, "I wouldn't know what to ask for." She raises her hands in a helpless gesture. She remains completely unaware of Blurr's existence as an individual as well as his lack of presence here. Blast Off looks in, and Exodus appears to be still welcoming him in- while there is still no sign of Blurr. Which the Combaticon doesn't like ONE BIT. But now, without any target at all... perhaps he should go in? Or maybe he ought to stay outside and keep looking? Or.... That's when he spots the mech next to the other two at the bar. Blast Off stops and stares. Is that.... a spacecraft mech? His kibble seems to indicate as such. Could it be.... he's found someone as *sophisticated* as he is? Here in Nyon, of all places? (Then again, who'd expect HIM to be here, as well?) Swift Blade smiles at him, and that's the last bit of encouragement he needs to stride inside. As he does so, he seems to stand taller every step he takes as he gets closer to them- and the possible space mech. It's like one proud bird strutting for another. He nods to Exodus and Swift Blade. "Greetings. I take it you are well?" His voice just drips calm, cool sophistication, and it's like the presence of another space alt is bringing out the *high society* mech in him. He looks oh-so-refined as he "happens" to glance at the unknown mech, and will give him a slight nod if he notices Blast Off. Squinting his optics to an even thinner, barely perceivable pair of lines, Detour carefully examines the new entries as if looking for something specific. After a moment, his chrome lips press into a thin line. He lifts his head ever so slightly and mutter something about the time. Seeing someone come to sit closer, he straightens up a little, if just not to occupy as much counter space as before with his arms. While doing so he knocks over his latest order and lets out a string of curses that, well, by the standards of the locals would be considered tame and perhaps even comical, but carries with it the same expression of vexation nonetheless. It is saving what is left of his order that has him distracted enough to not immediately notice the approach of the other shuttlechanger. And him barking in more of an authoritative voice than a uncouth growl for the staff to clean that mess up causes him to miss Blast Off's oh so refined speech and posture. But, taking a moment to scan about and seeing several patrons close around him, and realizing he's not showing his best colours, he quickly calms himself, forcing on a neutral expression, holding his nose high, and gives each of the three (that he can see) a nod each. "Sorry about that, must have been really hard," the miner says, giving her a sympathetic look. Then Exodus laughs a little and grabs a menu and hands it to Swiftblade with a smile. "Well, I can help you figure out what you like." He then scoots closer to her and leans in so he can look at the menu with her. He points out a particular item. "The Mood Whiplash here is pretty good. It's carbonated engex with a dash of petrol." He glances over at her with a little smile. "Sound good to you?" When Blast Off walks up, he pulls out a barstool for him. "Hey," he says, "glad you decided to join us. Want something? Drinks on me." He gives him a friendly wink. "I am quite well, though feeling a bit tired. I hope you are doing at least as well this cycle," Swift Blade says solemnly to Blast Off. She's about to say more, but she starts slightly when she hears the drink get knocked over, but calms down easily when she sees the source, giving the mech who just lost his drink a wry expression. Turning to Exodus, she nods her head. "Things were difficult at times, more because I had a lack of freedom rather than the work itself being too much for me to handle," she admits. "I will trust your judgement in the matter of the drink; either I will like it or I won't." Blast Off blinks as Detour starts barking curses. While tame by local standards, Blast off is not a local. They sound rather... crude to him. Still, these are trying times, and they're not as bad as SOME curses he’s heard (try hanging around Brawl sometime). The shuttleformer furrows optical ridges a little, but then decides to ignore them. Perhaps his stint living amongst the hardscrabble grunts of Kaon has made him slightly more tolerant- or perhaps it's just more desperate to find someone similar to him. It's not like spacecraft are common anymore, especially after the Clampdown made them all obsolete. When Detour nods to him, he asks the other mech, "Do pardon my intrusion, but... are you a spacecraft?" It is rather obvious from looking at him that Blast Off is, indeed, a spacecraft. The heat shields on his arms and back and the vertical stablizer (or tailfin) sticking out from his back are dead giveaways. To Exodus, he gives a polite nod. "I ...I would, yes. Thank you." Oh yes, with another spacecraft around all his manners are now on display. "Anything but... wine, please." Again, this is extremely odd for the cultured shuttleformer, but recently he's developed an aversion to his erstwhile favorite drink. He nods to Swift Blade. "I am well, yes. Tired? Have you found a place to recharge?" Much like a cat caught slipping and then quickly turning to nonchalance, one would not gather a moment ago Detour had been cursing or aggravated at all as he allows a calm, coo, and collected demeanor to come over him. His attention is kept by being directly addressed, and there is a slight widening of the optics at the forward question. There is a pause and another squint as Detour rubs his jaw, as if evaluating Blast Off carefully. The others are presently background noise - background noise he'll sort through later. "Ye-es, I am," Detour finally answers, his voice trailing softly with a hint of either suspicion, or the unsaid 'what of it?'. However, he has the better graces not to ask that question, and lets the answer hang, waiting for explanation or elaboration, or a point of the question in and of itself to be made relevant. It is not lost on Detour that he is speaking with another spacefarer. At this point, he allows the aforementioned background noise to consume a portion of his attention, giving a side glance to the other mech and the femme with him. "You sure now?" Exodus says, raising his brow ridges at Swift Blade. "I don't want to order something you don't like," he says kindly. "I hope you're the adventurous sort," he says, "because you're gonna have to do a lot of trying new things now that you're back," he says. Exodus glances over at mech who's just spilled his drink and offers him a kind smile. "Hey, take it easy, brother, I'll pay for the next one." "Of course," Exodus says politely to Blast Off. "I've got you covered." He calls the bartender over and orders Swift Blade and Blast Off's drink, then asks for him to give Detour a round of whatever drink he just spilled. Up near the ceiling are a series of bright blue LEDs positioned on narrow precipices all of which are arranged around the rim of the main room. The joint may not be all that fancy, this is Nyon after all, but there had to be -something- to make it look halfway decent, at least, and create an atmosphere of comfort. It is up there that Blurr is now lurking, using the blue lighting to help his similarly colored frame blend right in. He is perched on the tip of one of those precipices housing the light bars. It's a good hiding place, but if Blast Off keeps looking he might just catch sight of the racer, since by now the Combaticon is likely to be -very- familiar with his form as well as his habits. Swift Blade waves away the notion of recharging for now. "I was just lost for a little while. I'll probably be fine after I sit for a bit. It is more of a weariness of the mind." She offers Blast Off a brief smile. "I am pleased to hear you are doing well." She glances at the mech that Blast Off is speaking with every so often, but makes no attempt to address him directly, not wanting to interrupt their conversation. Swift Blade nods to Exodus. "I have already accepted that most of what I do and see on Cybertron will be different than what I'm used to. I only hope I am up for the challenge." She narrows her optics slightly in thought. "If I can't handle disliking a drink then my chances are very poor." Then she tilts her head. "I do not believe you would offer me something with the intention that I will dislike it either, so I am comfortable drinking whatever you suggest this time around." And, well, she still doesn't notice Blurr. But she has no reason to be looking for him. Blast Off's violet optics light up just a bit as Detour confirms what he suspected. A fellow spacecraft! (Who isn't Quantum). It's been so long! "My apologies, but it has simply... been so long since I met another spacecraft. It seems a rare thing these days, sadly. I am pleased to make your acquaintance, then." The shuttle always assumes other spacecraft are going to be as cultured as he is. Blast Off then nods politely to Exodus. He does suddenly get this strange feeling he's being watched, though. Optic ridges furrow down again and he glances about, though he pauses to address Swift Blade. "Ah, I see. Well, should you require accommodations, I might be able to help you find a place. However, if you can find your own that might be preferable, given.... the people we'd have to deal with." Like Swindle, of instance. Then he looks around again. Hmm. Weird "being watched" feeling is continuing. There's a glance around, a glance down, a glance up- And he quickly looks down again. Slag it all. Talk about living up to his name of being a SPY. Blurr's up there, what does he do about it though? Slag it I've been made... Blurr realizes when Blast Off glances up his way. And if the Combaticon looks again, he'd likely notice some movement as the racer draws a weapon. Time to make his move. Exodus smiles at Swift Blade. "Hope this drink will ease things up for you," he says, "let me know if you like it, we can make this regular if you like," he says. Then he laughs a little. "Well, if I did, then shame on me for taking advantage of a fine lady like you in such a way. I think you'll handle Mood Whiplash just fine though, it's a low key drink." He glances around the bar casually, but his optics land on Blurr and he frowns, wondering why the speedster is up there watching them. He quickly notices Blurr has his optics on Blast Off in particular. "" he radios Blast Off, and then Blurr draws a weapon. His optics widen slightly just before he grabs Blast Off and shoves him down onto the floor without warning. Detour grins towards Exodus generousity and nods with a gracious smile and the lift of a finger in something more casual than a salute but not quite so common as a 'thumbs-up'. He maintains a pleasant and yet somehow empty, disingaged smile as he watches and listens to Blast Off, occasionally flitting his gaze over to Exodus and Swift Blade as they carry their conversation. "Mmm-hmm. No. Not many these days, or maybe not many admit it. I don't blame them. Being considered obsolete is a mockery, especialy after years of hard work." Detour is carefuly watching Blast Off's face as he speaks, gauging reactions no matter how minute. And as such, when Blast Off's attention seems to wander with glancing about, Detour can't help but feel ever so slightly on edge by this behaviour and begins looking about as well. While doing so, however, he continues to speak in a forced calm. "But I am confident all mistakes can be corrected. It's just an error..." movement. Weapon. With a surprising amount of speed with even more surprising silence, Detour's drink is deposited on the bar and his hand is to his side. Whether this is to draw a weapon of sorts, or just posturing is not immediately obvious. Much more noisy is the clank of the back of his legs against the barstool he'd been sitting on previously as he stumbles away from getting caught in the middle of something he wants nothing to do with. Well, Blast Off could always nonchalantly try to make sure that Swift Blade is between him and the threat. But that might be too mean. After all, she's been pretty nice to him so far. On the other hand, it did sound like she would have fought on his side during that altercation in the alley. Maybe she would do so again. "I'll just return to my room in Vos most of the time. If ever I have an issue where I need help before I can get back, I'll worry about that then. But thank you for the offer; it is appreciated." Swift Blade is nice, but she's rather serious. Levity doesn't seem to be her strong suit. And then action happens. As Exodus moves to push Blast Off to the floor, out come her swords, one in each hand. Her optics dart around for the source of whatever threat caused the mech beside her to spring into action, but it is better to be over prepared than to be caught napping, so to speak. Most people have only seen her very passive side, but now she is very tense, keyed up to move the moment she has to. Optics flick to notice Detour's movements, but her stance remains mostly defensive for now. Detours motions were clearly not the threat. The shot meant for Blast Off ends up heading for Exodus instead, as the big mech suddenly gets in the way to shove the Combaticon down. Fortunately for him, though, it's not actually anything potentially lethal but in fact a controlled blast of high-voltage electricity meant to temporarily paralyze or knock into stasis lock rather than kill or maim. Frag! Blurr curses inwardly and quickly leaps to another light housing, in case any return fire is headed his way. The attack also sort of caused the rest of the patrons to fly into a panic and make a mad rush for the exits! Ok... that's not the response Blast off was expecting. He stares at Detour. "...How can you SAY that? Have you no pride? Who *cares* what anyone else thinks? We are spacecraft." His violet optics flash with that pride. "We are the astro ELITE. And... the Senate may have decried us as ... as "obsolete", but I assure you, our day will return." The Combaticon's expressions can be hard to ascertain- he wears optical visors and a faceplate. All part of that *distance* he likes to maintain. But his ego and determination can be heard in his voice. Perhaps also a slight edge of the desperation he feels... because despite his protests, he fears Default might even be... right. And he can't bear that thought. So- denial it is! Then Blast Off looks up and notices that Blurr has drawn a weapon. The Combaticon immediately stands, his own hand dropping down. Still not wanting to cause anymore of a scene than he absolutely MUST, he starts stepping away, intending to find a staircase or something that will allow him better access to Blurr- and more privacy from prying optics. "Swift Blade- I see. And- it was my pleasure." No, he wouldn't try to get her to be struck instead of him- he's far too much of a gentlemech for that. "Swift Blade, Exodus... it /has/ been a pleasure, but I must be leaving." He also nods to the spacecraft. He radios to Exodus, << He and I have a history. He is trying to capture me- arrest me. >> If Blast Off starts shooting in public, then HE's the wanted criminal anyway, so getting out of the crowd is the right tactic, and... AND THEN EXODUS practically TACKLES HIM TO THE GROUND. ...So much for dignity. The shuttle tries flailing, struggling, anything, though odds are he doesn't have anywhere near the strength to get Exodus off of him. "Get OFF ME!" Exodus stumbles forwards onto Blast Off as the stun blast strikes him, his optics momentarily flickering off and his arms falling limp at his side. Blast Off will be effectively trapped under his massive chassis. Thankfully, he only stays stasis lock for a few seconds. His optics flicker back on after a moment or two and he glances over at Swift Blade, his expression hazy. "...." There could be a long tirade from Detour about how Blast Off misunderstood him, but there simply is not time for words. Like many of the other panicked patrons, he is edging to get away from potential harm. However, he is not exactly throwing up his arms and squealing like a frightened petro rabbit. He is merely distancing himself from harm, and looking for all possible exits in case the main one gets blocked. After all, he knows nothing of what is going on. Nothing. And that is what makes it all the more unnerving. Swift Blade stands over the fallen mech and the one trapped beneath him. She crosses her swords in front of her and peers around at the bar through the space above the center of the 'X' created. "What is happening?" she asks, her voice low and bland. She knows she might be doing the wrong thing here, but she'll have to worry about that later. She's sure that it can't be the right thing to let either Blast Off or Exodus get harmed if she can do anything about it. Not that she's eager to fight, but she's more than willing when she feels it is necessary. Ugh, Blurr had been hoping that he could draw Blast Off out, and it had been working, but this big oversized nuisance of a miner keeps getting in the way. He jumps down from the precipice and lands smoothly in front of them, weapon drawn and ready to fire, though he doesn't pull the trigger again just yet. "Stand down, civilian." he demands of both Swiftblade and Exodus. "Step away from the suspect, and no one will be harmed." Detour remains as inconspicuous and uninvolved as possible. Blast Off is really starting to feel a bit freaked out. Exodus is HUGE, and the shuttle doesn't like people getting close anyway- and this is CRUSHING. Talk about feeling trapped- the very thing he's been trying to avoid. It brings out his claustrophobia, and he struggles anew, but still can't shove the mech off. His ventilation systems wheeze softly in distress. He keeps enough of his wits to answer Swift Blade, though. "Blurr. He's a spy for the Senate, and he's trying to arrest me. He's up there, and he's the one shooting!" Then Blurr leaps down and advances on them. The Combaticon's fuel lines run cold. He tries to get to his weapon, but with Exodus on top of him, he can't move his arm. He really IS trapped. No. No- he can't go back. If they take him back to prison, Pharma will see to it his spark is extracted immediately. there will be no second chances. He'll be WORSE than dead. He tries freeeing himself once more, then looks up at Swift Blade, attempting not to look as nervous as he's feeling. "....Don't let him. Don't TRUST him. He's being mind controlled. He's... a liar, and... and... he kidnapped my friend. He'll get ME killed. Actually..." Pause. "...Worse than killed. ...Don't...trust him." Exodus frowns, glancing up at Blurr standing over him. "Yes, sir..." he says, glancing downward. "Sorry for all the trouble..." He radios Blast Off. "< I am going to throw you. You can transform and fly off, right?>" But he doesn't wait for Blast Off to respond, as time is of the essence. Picking the lightweight shuttleformer up with one hand, Exodus chucks him like a football. The Combaticon will find himself soaring through the air though he is in protoform--straight for the glass ceiling above their heads. Civilian. The use of the word indicates to Swift Blade that this is obviously someone from a military or police force. She frowns. "Pardon me, but I'm new to the area. Do you have anything that proves you are a person of authority?" There is no belligerence in her voice and her tone is utterly respectful. However, until she confirms that this mech is, in fact, from a body of authority, she will not stand down. She engages optical contact with Blurr and waits patiently for his answer, calm and unafraid. Then Blast Off speaks from under the bulk of Exodus' frame. Her expression wavers and doubt creeps into her optics. Something about her mouth softens a trifle. As much as he's trying not to look nervous, the mech is obviously worried. Swift Blade feels torn between the beginnings of the friendship she has with Blast Off and her actual respect for authority. It is not a comfortable feeling. Especially if Blast Off turns out to be right. But she's going to wait for Blurr to at least say something, perhaps something that will help her confirm or deny Blast Off's accusations. And then Exodus' actions take her completely by surprise and all she can do is watch as Blast Off gets tossed upwards. Her jaw drops slightly and her optics widen. Oh, this can go wrong in so many ways. "Of course." Blurr obliges Swift Blade's request, and the ancient Cybertronian insignia of the First Face, a longtime symbol of authority on the planet, is projected slightly off of where it is emblazoned on his frame, the hologram appearing just long enough for her to see it clearly. "Now ste--" But Exodus has already grabbed the Combaticon and thrown him upward. Frag. The racer makes quick note of Exodus' identity, because he is now guilty of obstruction of justice by assisting a fugitive. He then raises the stun weapon again and points it upward toward the ceiling as Blast Off is hurled toward the sky window. Blast Off looks up at Swift Blade and sees her wavering between decisions. He can't totally blame her, but it's going to *really* suck if he gets handed over by people he thought were friends. Then the shuttle's optics widen just a bit as Exodus radios him. << You are going to do WHAT???!!! >> Not that he gets a choice here, because soon he's doing exactly what Exodus warned him of. Taking the opportunity he's given, he does as told- not going to argue now. Possibly proving to Detour beyond any doubt that he is, indeed, a shuttle. And his alt mode is MUCH bigger than his root mode, crashing through the ceiling above and sending glass shattering down below. So much for dignity, so much for sophistication, and so much for NOT making a scene. *sigh* The Combaticon keeps flying, too. It's not a good place for a fight, and actually- he's not keen on having to draw Exodus and Swift Blade any further in than they already are. Nor risk acting *uncivilized* in front of that other spacecraft. (Ugh, what must he think of Blast Off now? Slag, he didn't even get his name. Alas.) Thrusters kicking into high gear, he avoids Blurr's shot and starts making his escape. << You and I WILL "talk" another time, Spy! >> He radios back to Blurr. By the time the shards of glass hit the ground, Detour is no longer in the establishment. Not his fight, and he's no hero. Exodus quickly turns to make a fast exit (well, fast by his standards). And before Swift Blade can start thinking for herself too much, Exodus grabs her hand gently and pulls her along with him as he makes his way towards the egress at the back the of the bar, leaving Blurr to either give chase or leave them be. "" he radios Swift Blade. To Blast Off he radios. "" At the sight of the insignia, Swift Blade tucks her swords away. Her expression is openly dismayed. She does not want to see something bad happen to Blast Off and certainly doesn't want to believe his is a criminal. "What are you planning to do to him?" she has to ask, her optic ridges drawn together in mild distress. "What are the," she searches a moment for the word, "charges that he is being detained for?" She had never been a person under the law before. If she did wrong, it came back to her owners; she was simply the tool. But she saw what happened when her masters disobeyed the law, and quite often, it was not pretty. And then she would change hands again. Now she has far more accountability for her actions; she isn't sure if she likes it. When Blast Off smashes through the glass, she raises an arm across her optics, just in case. Inwardly she hopes that the mech makes good on his escape. She'll have to ask him about the rest later; she doubts that Blurr has the whole story. She wants to say more, but, well, she's being hauled off by Exodus and doesn't have the presences of mind to try to fight it, or even decide if she WANTS to fight it or not. She flicks an apologetic glance to Blurr as she's hauled off. Blurr watches as Blast Off gets away again, but the comm he receives makes him smirk. Heh, it's too bad for the Combaticon that he's too bull-headed for his own good. << Sure thing, Blasty. See you around. >> he replies. But then Exodus is taking off with Swiftblade, and not even giving him a chance to answer her questions! He runs after them, easily falling in stride with the pair. "Well, to answer your first question, he would be imprisoned until he can be put on trial and answer for the crimes he is accused of. And the charges? The murder of three innocent mechs, two of which were law enforcement officers." He darts in front of them, and backpedals. "What's your name?" Blast Off grumbles << My name is NOT Blasty. >> To Exodus he radios back, << ...Uh.... thank you. And... I should be able to get to Kaon from here. >> Kalis? He wonders if Exodus was speaking of Torque, who Blast off can thank for the newly repaired and highly functioning rockets that are currently ensuring his escape. Exodus' optics narrow a little as Blurr approaches them, but doesn't say anything to him right away. He squeezes Swift Blade's hand. "" "Leave her out of this," he says to Blurr, "I think she has the right to at least make some of her own decisions outside of any kind of influence." And with that, he turns to leave. It's hard to miss the fact that Swift Blade flinches upon hearing the charges. Blast Off didn't come across as the murdering type. "I find that hard to believe," she says honestly enough, her words coming out unevenly due to the oddness of being dragged away by a mech. "I don't want to fight the system, but I'm also new to this planet. I wish I could be assured that justice was actually being served," she confesses. At this point Exodus releases her and she takes a moment to stabilize herself. She nods solemnly to him. "Thank you for everything," she says, "including the warning. Be safe." She doesn't convince him to try to stay and talk to the officer of the law. Then she turns back to Blurr. As to the question of her name, well, the poor femme never learned how to lie. "My name is Swift Blade; I haven't been on the planet for very long." Despite the warnings, she wants to believe that the system isn't THAT far gone. That perhaps there have been misunderstandings more than outright corruption. "Hey, I'm just answering her questions." Blurr says defensively. "Of course she's entitled to her own decisions, but don't you want her to make an -informed- one? It wouldn't be fair to deny her the information she's requested." he folds his arms. He watches Exodus leave, after which there is a brief moment of silence. But not for long. The racer smiles amiably. "Swift Blade. Has a nice ring to it. I'm Blurr, as you might have already figured." he chuckles, then sighs slightly. "But yeah, I get that it's hard to believe that someone like Blast Off would be a murderer. Looks can be deceiving, trust me, it's a crazy world out there." He pats her on the shoulder, and hands her a small data slug with his hailing frequency on it. "Gotta run for now, but here, if you do want to see the evidence, I'll be happy to show it to you. It makes for quite the story, actually." As Exodus makes his exit, he radios to Swift Blade. ""